A Night To Remember
by LadyBootstrap
Summary: Will wakes up drunk and finds that sometimes the truth doesn't hurt. Burner. Oneshot. Slash.


**A Night To Remember**

Will would never drink again. It just wasn't worth it, he couldn't even remember how much he'd drank that night- let alone what he'd actually done. When he'd been an apprentice at the Blacksmiths his 'master' had often come in with a hangover (The pain of which had led him to drink even more, he didn't really understand the meaning of irony.) but he'd never envisioned it'd be as bad as _this_. His head was throbbing with the intensity of a galloping horse. Every sound, every rock of the boat was magnified to such a degree Will could hardly move. He just shut his eyes tighter willing everything to go away. The Pastor in Port Royal had often said God had a way of punishing every man for his vices and Will was beginning to see what he meant. If this was God's judgement he'd hate to see how God punished culprits of worse crimes.

Will was pulled out of his musings suddenly by the sound of somebody making their way across the deck. In his condition he couldn't tell where they were or where they were heading but he did know that if the sound didn't stop soon he'd go up there himself and shoot them. Strange, how no one else but him seemed to be suffering any ill effects. He could hear them, doing their work as usual. How come he was the only one suffering? Surely he was a more moral man than a bloody _pirate_? Then again he could have lost his morals last night. Even the most noble of men could become a vile pig with the help of Lady Whiskey or Duchess Port. What if he'd got into a fight? Or made lewd comments to Elizabeth? Or… Or…

It suddenly struck Will that he didn't actually know where he was. He looked around and quickly deduced this wasn't his usual sleeping quarters. The sheer size and softness of the bed should have alerted him to that. In his hazy mind he tried to piece together where he was. Everything looked so familiar but he couldn't quite remember where he'd seen everything before… He knew this place. He knew the walls. And he knew he'd never slept in this bed before. He sat up and his eyes darted around the room wildly- trying to find something, _anything_ that could help him. And he found it. In the corner of the room there was a small table, and on that table there was a simple wooden bowl. But it was the contents of the bowl which made Will gasp. In the bowl there was a great mountain of fruit. And not just any fruit either.

Apples.

He was in the captain's quarters. And that meant he must of… He must of… His head reeled with the thought. Impossible. He wasn't a sodomite. He _couldn't _be a sodomite. Men were hung for that crime, and he wasn't a criminal. That night with Jack in Tortuga had been a horrible misunderstanding; he'd swore it'd never happen again. He'd always told himself it'd been Jack's fault- you can never trust a pirate. Will shook his head angrily. This wasn't happening! He loved Elizabeth, didn't he? **Didn't **he? But he'd been proven wrong before… How did he know he loved her? How did he know he wasn't a sodomite? Was this just another lie? He'd insisted for so long he'd never be a pirate but there was all evidence to the contrary. Will shivered as he remembered Jack's words on that fateful night, such a long time ago…

'_I told you- I told you, you take after ol' Bootstrap. In more ways than one too… Not only are you a pirate but you taste exactly the same. Exactly. The. Same._'

Many people had told him he took after his father… Jack had made it pretty obvious he and Bill had been more than 'good friends' and his mother had told often told him that his father 'was a good man, just loved someone more than me'. Will had thought she meant the sea but now he wasn't so sure… But he was sure of one thing, he may be following in his father's footsteps but his father never would have slept with Barbossa. Will had become quite comradely towards Barbossa on the voyage but his father had been a constant barrier between them- removing all but the smallest ounce of trust.

And now Will had betrayed his father; his own flesh and blood because he couldn't handle his drink. Elizabeth didn't even care about him- she used him sometimes for company but would go off to talk to Jack at a moment's notice. Peculiarly, Will no longer felt sick, just numb. Throughout his reflections he'd gradually come to terms with everything. Even more of a surprise was that he didn't feel shocked, he felt free. Like his father must have felt when he was rescued from the bottom of the ocean. He just sat there and slowly mulled everything over in his mind.

This, unsurprisingly, was interrupted by a very familiar face barging into the room. Will was surprised to see he was without the monkey which usually was adjourned on his shoulder like a great prize. Captain Hector Barbossa surveyed Will's forlorn form, took an apple from the bowl and looked Will straight in the eyes.

'And what, may I ask, be teh matter with yer? Yer you fit to join Jones's crew.' He growled biting into the gleaming green apple, juice running down his chin.

Will stared at Barbossa defiantly, unsure of what to say. Barbossa's large figure intimidated him, he felt like a boy being disciplined by his father. Not that he'd really ever had that pleasure of course.

'Yer know yer haven't had yer tongue cut out... Yet. So speak before I do it meself.'

'I'm in your bedroom.' Will answered slowly, trying to articulate the mass of muddled thoughts screaming in his head.

'Well done. I always knew yer were a sharp one.' Barbossa took another bite and leaned in closer. Will's heart beat doubled, being this close was so strange, so wrong and yet exhilarating… Except there was one problem, his mind was still addled- his memories of the night before were blurry and undecipherable. This thought made Will feel worried. It could all be a misunderstanding. But this didn't lift his spirits, instead he felt rather deflated which perplexed him even more.

'Why?' Will asked simply, hoping to find out the truth and put himself out of his misery.

'Because yer fell asleep there yer slack-jawed idiot!' Barbossa answered.

Will closed his eyes and swore under his breath. Obviously the captain wanted a game of words. Couldn't he be merciful for once? Will suddenly felt very tired and looked into Barbossa's eyes trying to make any sense out of it. But Barbossa's eyes were as steely as his personality; they shielded everything and left Will feeling even more alone. Will opened his mouth to tell the captain what he really thought when abruptly and rather unceremoniously he threw up on the floor.

'Such a gentleman. No wonder Miss Swann was gonna marry yer.' Barbossa noted drying before briskly stepping to one side to keep away from the gift Will had left on his floor.

'Shut up.' Will snapped wiping his mouth. 'Just tell me what happened last night.'

'As yer wish.' Barbossa smiled widely. Will noticed a flicker of amusement in his eyes as he said it, and it angered him. 'Being such a gentleman yer decided to have a drink last night. And as a gentleman yer couldn't handle it. So yer passed out and teh protect yeh from teh crew yer were locked in here.'

'Protect me?'

'The crew always punish the first teh fall down. Tradition.' Barbossa explained offhandedly.

Will nodded but he wasn't really paying much attention. Somehow this news didn't make him feel any happier. His headache was gone but he felt… disappointed. This wasn't how it was supposed to be. The smell of vomit was becoming almost unbearable but he didn't care. Nothing happened, so why didn't he feel elated? Why wasn't he relieved? It's not like he'd wanted to sleep with Barbossa, was it? So many questions- but he couldn't answer them, Will felt slightly afraid and tried to focus on something else.

Barbossa eyed Will attentively. The boy had not taken the news well. Perhaps he was more like Bill than he'd earlier thought. Only one way to find out.

'Not what yer was expecting, lad?' Barbossa asked.

But Will didn't answer; he was too absorbed in his own mind. Hundreds of images were flickering in his mind. Himself playing liar's dice with Pintel and Ragetti, losing everything and laughing about it with a bottle in his hand. Dancing on a table with Jack arm in arm. Passing out right in front of Elizabeth. Being carried by a strong set of arms into a warm bed. Later being caressed with those same strong arms and kissing with a passion he'd never felt before, barely being able to keep his arms off the other man. Having to touch him, feel him, and know that it was real. And finally falling asleep in the other's arms.

'Liar.' Will said, yet again harnessing the power of a simple sentence.

'How dare yer impugn me honour yet again, boy.' Barbossa said mock-aggressively. 'Like I said before, yer are such a gentleman- I thought yer wouldn't want teh hear the sordid truth. With yer bein' such a good man an' all. 'Course if yer were really a good man yer would clean up this mess.' He nodded at the floor.

Will sighed and for the first time in what had seemed like years got out of the bed. He bent down before realising he didn't have anything to clean it up with. He made to get up and found his head was uncomfortably close to Barbossa's crotch. Will stopped hesitantly for a few seconds before fully standing up. He could see that amused look in Barbossa's eyes again. But this time he felt no anger, instead Will embraced him.

Whatever Barbossa had been expecting, it wasn't this. This awkward, strange, half-hug was not something he was used to. But he felt that familiar shiver of ecstasy as Will's body came into close contact with his and that was enough. Will didn't know what he was doing, he just need to be close to Barbossa, needed to feel him. These overpowering feelings were reducing him to an emotional wreck. He eventually loosened his hold and relaxed slightly waiting for the inevitable punch from Barbossa. It never came; instead Will was treated to something completely different.

Will gave a short gasp of shock and delight as he felt Barbossa's nimble fingers stroke his crotch. It seemed impossible that such a small, gentle notion could provoke such notions but reason was not on Will's mind. His breathing became heavier as Barbossa massaged the area; the feelings coursing through his body were so intense he felt his mind go blank- shutting out everything else. Nothing mattered but this. Barbossa looked deep into Will's eyes, they were glazed- he was completely lost; the boy's enthusiasm encouraged him. He moaned softly as Barbossa pulled him closer and began to kiss him passionately. He responded in the same manner, running his hands over Barbossa's weathered face. Their kisses began to get more and more frenzied as they pulled each other closer and closer. Eventually it all got too much and Will found himself struggling out of his clothes.

Every bit of rationality and reason had gone to Davy Jones's locker. Will felt a sense of pure, unadulterated happiness that he'd felt too few times. And as he traced his fingers around Barbossa's chest and kissed him lightly he realised all of the lies he'd been telling himself. Their passionate kisses began again, with Barbossa running his hands down Will's feminine form whilst breathing heavily on his muscled shoulder. Will turned his head to moan, and Barbossa's attention turned to his neck; which was kissed so fervently and roughly he felt like he would burst. But at least he'd die in this state of bliss…

Suddenly Will felt himself being flipped over and put onto the bed. Barbossa had chosen the part of the bed furthest away from Will's 'accident'. Memories of his earlier experience with Jack sprung to mind as he heard Barbossa spit into his hand. Then it commenced- the room was filled with more heavy breathing as both men took pleasure in their actions. Young William Turner was a mystery at times but he was pretty and not a bad fuck either. Will felt himself climax soon after Barbossa, he subconsciously tried to stop it but before he knew what was happening he was screaming Barbossa's name at the top of his lungs.

After Barbossa exited him, Will heard the door slam open.

'Oh my God!' A female voice screamed. 'Will! How could you?'

Will turned around to apologise to Elizabeth, to explain everything- how he lost control and what a bad person he was and how he had lost himself. But when he looked into her eyes he remembered her kissing Jack on the _Pearl_ and he felt no sympathy. He opened his mouth to speak but was caught off guard with Barbossa putting his arm around his waist tenderly.

'Do yer mind? We're a bit busy, love.' He smirked and pulled Will into another kiss. And this time Will didn't care what she thought.

In fact- things were going to be a bit different around here from now on.

FIN

A/N My second attempt at slash. I prefer my first story really, this one was supposed to be more light-hearted, shorter and more slash orientated but all that went out the window. It seems I can't help but write angst. Some of this seems a bit childish but my attempts of fixing it made it even worse so I've left it for the time being. But I'll probably edit it at a later date. Constructive criticism is greatly appreciated- I want to improve. It takes a bit of work to make my scribblings even a bit coherent because my ideas are all over the place. Here is another consensual Burner fic; POTC fandom needs more of these people! Wake up and smell the Piñatas!


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